


Pumpkin Spiced Memories

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Implied Smut, M/M, Pumpkin Spice, past Sam/Jess - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-29
Updated: 2016-11-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 00:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8689939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Written for Wincest Love Week Nov. 2016Day 1Prompt: pumpkin spiceSam loves pumpkin spice and Dean can't figure out why.





	

“Get that shit away from me, Sam.” Dean grimaced when Sam waved the heavily scented coffee under his nose.

 

“Oh come on – get festive, Dean. And you call me a grump.”

 

“I am festive!” Dean argued. “I’m making Thanksgiving dinner and I let you put up those hideous Thanksgiving leaf decorations all over the bunker. That _crap_ is not festive. That is disgusting goop that burns my nose and doesn’t even _smell_ like a pumpkin.”

 

“Will you at least try it?” Sam asked, offering Dean his best puppy dog eyes expression.

 

Dean grimaced before grabbing the pumpkin spice coffee. He sniffed it and grimaced.

 

“You’re gonna owe me for this, jackass,” He grumbled before taking a sip.

 

Dean looked at Sam with the mouthful of coffee and Sam could see him swishing it over his tongue, measuring the taste. Dean tipped his head one way, then the other, grimaced, and swallowed. He passed the coffee cup back to Sam and rose, heading for the kitchen.

 

“So?” Sam asked, snagging his drink and following after Dean like a puppy.

 

Dean glanced back and shrugged, disappearing into the kitchen. Sam glared before following once more. “What’s the shrug mean? You’ve been ragging on pumpkin spice stuff all week; you can’t just shrug after _finally_ trying it. What did you think?”

 

Dean shrugged again, pouring himself his own cup of coffee. “It’s okay.”

 

“Okay? _Okay?_ Come on, man, give me more than that.”

 

Dean sighed and leaned on the counter, sipping his black coffee. “Fine, truth?”

 

“Yes!”

 

“It’s the grossest thing I’ve ever tasted, Sam. Don’t kiss me until you brush your teeth.”

 

He brushed past Sam to head back to the library, leaving Sam to gape after him.

 

**

 

In the library, Dean snuffed out the pumpkin spice candle Sam had lit and sat down in one of the comfortable chairs, snagging one of his car magazines. He’d just begun to flip through it when Sam entered the library, looking pissy.

 

Dean glanced up and then back down, deciding to say nothing until Sam spoke. Of course, Sam standing in front of him, arms crossed, tapping one booted foot, was incredibly distracting.

 

“What?” Dean finally snapped after five minutes of the silence.

 

“You really think it’s gross?”  


Dean glanced up, surprised at the softness of Sam’s voice.

 

“Yeah, it’s just not something I like. Why’s this bugging you so much, Sammy?”

 

Sam looked down, his cheeks reddening visibly. “Nothing, I mean – it’s not bothering me.”

 

“Okay… And you’re a shit liar, baby brother. Come on, it’s a damn flavor. And smell. And… God knows what else they put it in now. What’s it matter if I like it or not?”

 

“It’s just… This is the first Thanksgiving we’ve decided not to work since we got together, as in like, a couple.”

 

“And?”

 

Sam heaved a sigh and looked up at Dean. “Jess and I had this tradition when we were together. Since I never went home for Thanksgiving she always stayed at the dorms with me and we’d spend it together.”

 

“Well that’s really sweet, Sam, but I’m still not seeing the connection.”

 

“Pumpkin spice was her favorite thing about the Thanksgiving season and once we started having sex we always spent the night before Thanksgiving making love and she’d light a pumpkin spice candle and we had this lube that was supposed to be cinnamon and vanilla but it smelled and tasted exactly like pumpkin spice lattes and I picked up a bottle of it and just thought—“

 

“That you wanna continue that with me,” Dean filled in, ready to kick himself for being so harsh over a stupid smell.

 

“Yeah, it’s dumb, I know, but…”

 

“Hey, Sam,” Dean sighed and set his magazine down, standing. He set his hands on Sam’s upper arms, rubbing gently. “Look at me.”

 

Sam met Dean’s eyes and Dean offered one of his signature smirks. “Look, I don’t like the taste of it, but you do. I can handle the smell of a candle in your bedroom. If you want to—“

 

“I won’t make you if you don’t like it, Dean.”

 

“Hey, you do crap for me you don’t like all the time. I can repay the favor. Plus, maybe I’ll like it a little more if I eat it off your ass, huh?” Dean joked and Sam’s face broke into an embarrassed smile.

 

“You’re a pig.”

 

Dean’s lips pushed out in thought before he nodded. “I am. But you can’t get enough of it. I have one condition though.”

 

“What?” Sam asked hesitantly. Whenever his brother had a ‘condition’ it was always humiliating and simply not worth it.

 

“We’ll do this for you… But on Thanksgiving, after Mom goes home, you’re gonna let me eat pumpkin pie filling and whip cream off your body.”

 

Sam’s cheeks pinked even further. “Seriously?”

 

“Oh yeah. Do we have a deal?”

 

Sam sighed, his arms relaxing from their crossed state and dropping so he could rest his hands on Dean’s hips. “Yeah, we have a deal.”

 

Dean grinned widely and leaned up, kissing Sam’s mouth. “Let’s see this pumpkin spice lube of yours. You might turn me into a fan if you mix it with my favorite flavor.”

 

“Your favorite flavor? Booze?”

 

“Nah. The taste of my baby brother,” Dean laughed. Sam punched him in the arm, but led Dean to the bedroom to show him the lube.

 


End file.
